


Deathless Death

by FBSchin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Cheating, Churches, Cliche, F/M, Female Reader, First time writing Jason, Problimatic fic, She/Her, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, anti-religious, catholic overtones, check chapter update for more warnings, happy ending lol?, mary-sue kinda, spousal abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FBSchin/pseuds/FBSchin
Summary: The Red Hood gets a wif of a rumor of a weapon of mass destruction being smuggled into Gotham. After digging he finds out that someone has been taking over churches, using them as a front for a drug ring and other crimes. Following a lead he decided to go undercover in Gotham oldest church. But that's when he meets you. The more he learns the more he wishes he just minded his own business.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Reader, Red Hood/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	1. You again

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, I got into the fandom recently so bare with me. I tried to do my research for this. I'm just gonna state that when it comes to reader insert, and yes i know its part of the brand. But I "PERSONALLY" find and this is not shade things like (y/e) and like (y/ec) to be a bit distracting while reading. so there wont be a lot of that. With that this also is a cliche trope of "you" being a abused girlfriend. SO bare with me, I am just writing a bit of the damsel in distress thing.

A giant fist smashes into the skull of a man of the cloth. Teeth fly out with a splatter of blood as his large knuckle breaks his jaw with a loud crack. The impact is a louder collision then that the Red Hoods own fists. His body bounces on the ground and you could swear the tile below had shattered into a cobweb, being slowly filled with red blood.

If he isn't dead now, then he will be soon after. Jason Todd leans down lifting the clerical man up by the black collar of his robes. Jason easily lifts the heavy old man up, his feet kick back and forth as the Red Hoods bicep bulges. Red blood oozing from the man reflects on his red shiny helmet.

"Where's the weapon?" Red Hood growls at the man, but is only met with a goopy and bloody spit in response.

Cobwebs of blood infused saliva drool down the slack jawed, and quickly blackening face of the man held in suspension.

"Go to hell." Bloody yellow teeth smile.

"Mother,"- He drops him down unlatching a gun from his side holster while the large old priest is still falling mid air, "Fucker!" the bullets pop into the mans chest.

He gurgles as his old over set body pools blood all over the obsidian tiled floors. Another dead end, the night had gone on long enough as sunlight tried to make Gotham city beautiful in it's glory. Jason Todd walks out of another destroyed old church back to one of his safe houses. Revving the handle bars of his motorcycle he speeds down the road.

Jason decompresses his mask and lifts it slowly off his head. Black hair is tussled back and forth like a dog removing unneeded extra moisture. Running a still gloved hand through his tresses, giving his own scalp a soothing scratch he lets out a long sigh.

Another dead end, he curses aloud in his remote safe house. The third new this month. He is after a weapon imported from Metropolis, another war head that has no business being in Gotham. What it can do he worries might all just be water cooler talk. Something light weight, compact, easy to hide with outstanding deadly capabilities.

Just the more he seems to find out about the damn thing, the harder it becomes. His only lead is that it had passed through the local church in the west end. He tore through the place, but all he found was old pedophiles pretending to enlighten the at risk.

But they knew something, judging how they had guns under their robes. It wasn't to hard to separate their hands from their bodies, be it an unexpected turn of events. Maybe if those morons had not been so trigger happy he may have lost the sent.

The last church he had busted was just a money laundering cover, using the tax exemplary to force more income from the poor and funnel it into the drug ring. Pretty brave on his streets. He could just keep sacking churches at the death of his public image. But its not working, all these men are faithful to what seems to be a false god. None of them talk, one would think that these asshats who preach all damn day would be more than happy to talk.

Still in uniform his bottom sits on an old bunk that wheezes with is abundant muscle weight. Teeth help remove the Velcro off of his working gloves, the next are his boots, tight laces don't like gloves. It takes a long moment for him to slowly peel out of his sweat soaked attire, in nothing more than tight boxer briefs and mid calf high black socks, littered with over walked friction wholes. He walks over the almost comically tiny mini fridge, in the tiny safe house. Old dry wooden floors creek as he drinks milk straight from the carton. His free hand goes to scratch the treasure trail on top of a very compact 8 pack. He exhales rather loudly wiping away the milk-stash.

"Maybe its time for some more, undercover work."

* * *

What seemed like a stroke of genius at the time, now just made his clench his fists hard. His own rough callused palms might just split open from frustration.

It's so much worse than he thought. It wasn't hard to blend in. After getting a uniform off the body of what was clearly an undercover thug, judging by all his tattoos and nipple piercings. It was just a matter of over confidence, just act like you should be there baby. Jason simply walked into the next place he was planning to hit.

The oldest church in old Gotham. It is has historic as it is beautiful. And without a doubt, deeply haunted. Old yellow bricks several stories tall, with an "A" frame front, large towers made filled with stain glass windows, and a roof littered with spikes and two stone angels to guard. The gigantic old deeply brandy stained wooden doors wood be heavy for the average person, but Jason opened them with ease.

In the brink of daylight the inside would soften any eyes. Rose gold sunlight burst through historic stained glass designed after cathartic legends. Hundreds of rainbows poured in over the light old stone floors bouncing light all over the high roofed building. The church was old, but large. It could fit a few hundred people and pews lined from the doors all the way to the podium. Looking up the building was supported by large dark beams, from that hung simple, yet sharp looking chandeliers.

Before Jason could examine the rather enchanting building further, a "Why hello there?" Broke his thought forward, as another potential bullet target walked out from a side hallway.

 _Should he bow?_ Not enough research was done but fuck it. Walking over with strong strides he would just play it cool.

"Good morning, Father." Jason greets the man. Strides pull them closer. He is an older man, his hair is salt and pepper and a bearded mug brings a sense of kindness to puffy bagged eyes and a stout nose.

"What brings you here?" The old priest is weary, as his hands go to embrace Jason. The gesture is firm and uncomfortable. Jason can feel with his own heavy frame this older man is nothing but old flesh and bone, if he squeezed him he would brake like a glass doll dropped from above.

He takes his hand and shakes it firmly.

"I have been sent, from _afar._ " Jason begins not breaking eye contact, hand on the shoulder. He watches as a small twinkle finds the mans eyes. "For, your protection Father." Jason furthers.

He watches as if the old man was just told his wife's tumor was benign. Eyes become so glossy that he quickly covers his face, his hands come up and tips of a thumb and a pointer rub tear ducts.

"I knew that God, was watching over." The old man huffs, his breath is a little dry as he gulps.

"Come with me son, we can't talk out in the open." He pulls Jason off. Thinking that it was all too easy. The long stone hallways are filled with closed doors, the hall is a bit creepy and dark. But that finds him a bit of nostalgia of simpler times.

They walk with a bit of haste, down a carpeted hallway till they reach a large dark wooden door. The old man fumbles with a large jailer like key he got from his pocket, turning it inside the big lock till it clicks. He pushed the door open with nobly hands, it catches the carpet a bit and seems to be a pain to open.

"Please come in." Jason obliges, but not letting the priest be behind him longer than a second as he joins him.

Its a small office, there is one giant glass pained window, of the Virgin Mary that is almost the size of the whole forward facing wall. The two on each side of him are filled with cabinets and book shelves. An old painting of some probably dead monk is a little crooked.

The untrustworthy pastor circles the side of a very big old desk, his bottom finding itself in a very big red upholstered chair.

"Won't you sit?" Old hands gesture with a bit of desperation to one of the two chairs in front of him.

Jason closes the door, locking it before walking up in front of the desk.

"I'd prefer to stand." He states firmly, gazing down at the old man. It takes very little for him to squirm.

He shutters before speaking.

"This is the last church in Gotham I fear to fall." He begins looking up into Jason's ice cold gaze.

"T-they didn't send you to take this from me did they?" He's clearly panicking now. Jason's rather foreboding disposition makes the most of men squirm.

"P-please don't hurt me." He begins to fidget in fear, like he might tear up again. Jason pauses internally, is he being tested? He has a gun in his waist band and one in his boot. It wouldn't be hard, he might not even need it for the man to soil himself.

"Please." He starts to cover his face as if he could read Jays mind. Jason's eye's tare this man to shreds, but then he gives the most unsettling smile down at him.

"Please relax, I said I'm here to help." He eases him a bit as he takes a sit in the old chair behind him.

"Tell me whats going on first, and make sure it's something I don't already know." he learns at the old priest, it doesn't take any more prodding for the old man to divulge what he knows.

It's not great, almost worse than he feared. Always going off worst case scenario but this is fucked even for him. Churches in his eyes have always been filled with liars, fucking goofs and all sorts of felons pretending to be holy. Using gullible and at risk people to build their cults. And then there is that not paying taxes shit that also pisses him off. Not like he really sites his tip out anyway.

According to this man, who says his name is Father Micheal, that over the past few years, more and more priest have been fleeing or just disappearing. That over night churches just go black. The citizens don't seem to be any wiser, that or they are in on it. Someone is using the churches as a front.

"There is a rumor, that a weapon is being hidden." Father Michael nearly whispers. Jason's attention snaps forward making him jump.

"Go on." He growls.

"Well, I um. Its only just rumor." He shudders, as if ready to pass out like a school girl. Jason's furrowed brows squeeze the rest out from him.

"They say its a holy relic, that someone is using the churches to hide. If this is true, even half a truth. Then-"

"All of Gotham is fucked." Jason curses before he can finish. "Awe fuck, excuse my language." He smiles a bit. Leaning back and crossing his arms in the chair.

"They said the Red Hood might be behind it." Jason could pop a vain at the idea. But he cant really break his cover.

"Yeah I heard he is quite the guy." He says trying not to stroke his own ego too, to hard.

The priest looks a little off put, he takes a small cloth from his pocket and dabs his wet forehead.

He sighs very loudly.

"Are you the only one they sent." His tired and cracked voice only has worry left in it. Jason just might soften for a second. To get one thing straight he doesn't trust this old fuck wad as far as he could throw him. But a leads a lead. And damn he might just take this old place down with everything if his cover gets popped. But at the moment, intuition tells him this old man is only one thing.

Scared Shit-less.

"Not to sound over confidant. But I am more than enough." Jason assures standing up. The old man nearly cowers at Jason's massive size, rainbows dance over his black robe, reflecting on his rosary with a shine.

Extending his hand over the desk.

"Lets get along, whadya' say?" The hand that shakes the old man is much larger, he could break it with his grip if he really wanted too.

* * *

That was nearly a week ago now, and since then he got a uniform upgrade. Now given a very nice stole, a long red sash over both shoulders, rimmed with golden embroidery with crosses sown on at both ends. His robes more form fitting around the chest and abs, his nice slacks had deep pockets for hiding what not in them. Something more dignified for this old church. He was given a more thorough tour of the joint once the old man had feeling in his legs once again.

He explained that many people had fled, most priest are not comfortable with doors open 24 hours. There are only 2 here for the week till Sunday. The two of them split each day in 12 hour shifts, unfortunately with all the crime going on there just isn't anyone who can come to their aid. It's soul crushing.

"The only one who may look out for us now is God." Father Micheal states. Jason is rather unraveled. This place is far more ordinary than he thought.

"How about I take all the night shifts for you, let you and your partner split the days?" He smiles to the old man. His eyes become dewy again, Jason almost feels bad for the old man.

"I fear it would be unfair to press such duties on you, besides we are safer in numbers no?" Father Michael protests a bit. A kind sentiment but Jason wants this old fuck out. What Jason would really love is trouble to burst those big ass doors down, just looking to start a fight with him. Hell of a lot easier to purge that way.

"Please, I very much insist." Jason looms down a bit into his space. The man swallows. They compromise despite Jason's dread filling ways, the first week he is shadowed. Whatever, at least he can watch this old fuck.

Its Saturday night now, all is peaceful in these old stone halls. The church is huge, it would be easy for the common man to get lost. It's a pity how much its run down. Mold hangs in the high tops of roofs, old beams and accents are covered in dust. Its been a while since this place had volunteers, let alone staff.

It mostly sucks being here, he was hoping to make a busty ass nun or two confess their darkest sins to him. Maybe another night, he's sure there is a video or two that he could indulge in once this is all over. So far other than being a shaken bag of mice, Father Micheal doesn't seem that crooked. But for fuck sakes, if this old fuck doesn't stop thanking God for looking out for them, and not Jason's sorry ass? Well fuck it.

Whatever, work is work. Father Micheal lights a candle with the burning wick of another. At night you're only duty is to light candle after candle. There are hundreds. And to his dismay there are fucking hundreds of them. Candelabras line the brick walls beside the benches. Each one holds 3 long damn candles. They all need to be fucking lighted. And he can't even use a torch lighter or something to make this shit over with, for some reason. He is no stranger to discipline, being trained by Bruce and other notable figures in his lives. But this is so boring he could fall asleep standing. But its just tonight and tomorrow till the old man fucks off and he can get back to the real work. Its nearly 11:30 on a late summer night, the lights get dimmed and the whole church blooms with of amber yellow from the sea of candles.

The old man yawns rather loudly and Jason feels a ting in his chest. Stupid old man, why not just ask for Batman's help? I guess the man isn't a body guard but still, old fucker like him running ragged just to keep the doors open. The only people that come in are the odd homeless, using the bathrooms to wash up a bit and taking a nap in the corners of the benches.

Its quiet, as a small bat flies up way high, how did it get in here who knows but that fills him with an odd sensation.

Perhaps if this place isn't a front, maybe he could keep it going a little longer. Could he announce its under his protection? That's probably a bad idea during further consideration. It be a shame if it got destroyed, you don't see nice old architecture like this anymore. Part of it nearly reminds him of Wayne manor.

On second thought maybe it should burn.

"Would you excuse me for a bit?" Father Micheal asks him. Jason simply nods relieved to not be watched like a hawk. Maybe its a test? Anyone's guess right now.

"I'll be in my office, I've got a mountain of work that I'd love to relive if you're okay? If anything goes array call the police right away." He speaks like he's forgetting who he is talking to.

Jason huffs a quiet laugh. "Sure sure." He nearly waves the old man off.

He returns to the mind-numbingly boring task of lighting candle after candle. As the small wick of a tea candle hisses from being lit. The loud drag of the giant church doors halt his attention forward.

Midnight bells rings softly behind him, echoing in the giant building like a haunting melody. He looks ahead, he had slipped a throwing knife under the podium for a quick kill if need be, as his fingers feel its hilt. He see's you walk in.

A breath leaves his lips and his head turns a bit as he sizes you up.

Stepping in on quiet feet, like a mother not wishing to wake her sleeping new born, the streetlights from outside drag your shadow long on the floor. You walk in leaving a hand off the door. It starts to creek loudly. Jason watches you with cut eyes as you help the door shut quietly.

Checking you up and down one two many times Jason takes you in. The young women, wearing a white sun dress, its very long, almost to her ankles. It seems to need very little wind to flow around her like the petals of a flower. Very pretty long hair glides with her own unsure steps down the hall way between benches. Its hard to make her face out from the distance and the low light. He watches softer features look up, then down to her side. If sound did not carry so well in here he would have chuckled at her bravery of just grabbing a seat. By the time her bottom finds the cold bench the last of the bells have rung. Midnight is here, and the first thought Jaybird has is just what the hell, is some young lady in all white doing walking around fucking Gotham in the middle of the night? She didn't have a purse, and was only wearing flats. Not to victim blame but that's asking for trouble.

Taking the prowl, Jason lights a few candles near you. He studies you from glances.

Pretty thing, soft features, bowstring lips, and long sweeping lashes. But you seem to be in almost a daze, looking ahead, as every candle light brings out the softness in your feminine features. Light bounces off your pretty hair, and glows in your eyes like starlight. But you say nothing, you didn't even acknowledge him let alone the sleeping homeless people around. Just looking off at nothing, and taking in the same nothing.

She is probably high, Jason resolves. But your on his radar now. Everyone who walks through that door is a potential threat. A pretty face aint' enough to hide suspicion.

That night, Jason takes a tiny candle break to set up a small lookout on the tall Gothic peaks of the old church, up on an old column he begins a surveillance of the area for a few hours. Its late night Gotham. But nothing note worthy. Before trouble could have walked in, let alone the old man looking for him, Jason quietly, and without being noticed sneaks back inside. Running big hands over himself, he sweeps a bit of dust off his legs, and fixes his scarf.

He had been vigilant for about 4 hours now, watching most of the old homeless people saunter on out. As soon as he breaches the large arching door frame back into the cathedral room. His eyes lock in on her again. You're still sitting there? Why you pretty little thing. Your posture is more relaxed, all of the homeless people have left, only she remains yet. He didn't notice you leaving, but part of him assumed you had. But you remain. Sitting with hands folded in your lap, looking ahead at over burned candles with tired eyes.

That's suspicious, no matter how Jason looks at it. Walking up to the podium, his hand runs under the wood feeling his hidden knife. And with a flick of the wrist its under his sleeve, ready for fun.

But before the party could start you stand up, hair that was tucked behind your ears pool out as you straighten yourself. Scooting out, the white dress follows you like a cloud, as you rub your arms very slowly, perhaps trying to remove a chill?

And for the first time that night you gave Jason a glance, a tiny nod his way, it's gentle and would have been unnoticed to a lesser man.

And then she walks out. In the middle of the summer night, without even a shawl for exposed shoulders.

This time the church door does boom behind her as it shuts. Its loud, and shakes the bones inside him.

Untrustworthy.

* * *

The next night was thankfully the last of him being baby sat. Daddy Mike, as Jason would refer to him in his own mind.  
He can't help but chuckle a bit. if that bastard doesn't die hes gonna try that nickname out on him before he leaves. Just for the shock affect really. He converses very plainly with the priest for a short bit. He's half way to determining this guy might actually just be a hostage in an ongoing crime problem. Not off the chopping block yet, but he can stay at arms length for now.

One last late night has clearly brought him great relief. Having staff during the day for Sundays gives him a moment or two to himself.

"I am so grateful that you are here." He admits softly, Jason hides his forming scowl. Praise is nice, but really only from a women.  
"I pray to god every night, so that he may be watching over you." He smiles with a tired face. Jason's palms feel a little sweaty at the thought. Its extremely tempting to make a comment about how he stays up all night thinking of Jason, but he takes a very hard pass at the jab.

Another time he tells himself.

Just as he could speak back, those old ass doors open again. Another homeless fucker?

No, its you again. His eyes widen as pupils sliver on your frame.

Another late night and you have wandered into the old church. Its a few minutes past midnight again. Gracefully you help the door close, and now Jason just can't peel his eyes off you. Weather it be that you are wearing another pretty sundress, the fact that you still don't have any sort of warmth draped around yourself. Or the fact that you seem to be out of it again. Its suspicious, are you here to spy on him? Jason bites the inside of his lips taking every inch of you apart. Sitting just a bench forward from where you pitched last night, wax drips all over the floor as Jason wonders if you are civilian or foe.

Jason's attention snaps on Father Micheal, as he approaches you without judgment. Foolish man, you're either stupid and forgetting about what's going on, or you're fucking suicidal. And he's pretty sure that's a sin around here. What if she is working with "them" you moron?

The old bastard could just be both, Jason nearly snorts.

"Child, what brings you here so late?" Father asks the young women. Jason finds his eyes gazing across the candle light over to her. She is sitting, posture turned over to him. Looking up at her as he stands beside her.

"Hmm." Jason hums softly wondering the same.

"Oh, just out for a walk father." Her voice is on the softer side as hair slips from her shoulders.

"Though I welcome the company, this old man worries it might be a bit late for someone such as yourself." Father Micheal cautions. Jason pours more wax over a candle forgetting his task nearly glaring at you with intent.

"Don't worry, I'll only be here for a short while. You need not worry." She smiles softly, a pretty smile for a pretty face. Too bad she isn't a busty nun.. He snorts a bit for a moment going back to his duties.

"If you need anything, please come ask me child." Then he watches the old fool give you the tiniest of blessing, moving his hand like a cross over you. Praying for her safe health and protection.

And then he gives a short bow leaving you alone on the benches. Your white dress seems like a light shade of yellow from all the candle light and dimming hues from above. Sitting pretty but your face feels distant, you look troubled for just a moment, again doing that thing were you slowly rub your shoulders before sitting in to the stiff backs of the benches.

As Father Micheal rejoins Jason he quickly probes for information. Leaning in with his back turned to her, "Do you know her?" Jason whispers. Father Micheal takes the hint and shakes his head side to side.

"Never seen her before. She is troubled for sure." He whispers back to Jason.

Or she's a fucking junkie?

"To play a priests ear is my job, I'm good at telling when a young lady's heart is heavy." He sighs softly.

Jason's turns to glare back at you a too little coldly for a priest, but eyes don't meet his.

Jason hums, he isn't so easily fooled.

"I'll keep an eye on her." Jason whispers to back.

Father Micheal clearly doesn't like that, unhappy but he does not protest. This is why these places get gassed so that the new tenants can move in. Blind trust.

"Excuse me for a bit." Jason pats the old mans back and wanders off. Taking the time to look around, using those moments for a quick patrol of the surrounding area.

It's far too quiet in this fucking place, it's really eerie. According to his sources during the day, his trip wires are not being pulled the way he would like. Kicking old man butt and busting dead ends at dusk, and lighting candles all night. Hes starting to worry its all a lost cause. Maybe he should just break some fingers around here.

He sighs and the loud huff echoes in the big old halls.

Taking his time to return to the citadel again, candles had burned down and wax pooled all over the large candelabras. And his eyes lock on you again. Father Micheal has seemed to have wandered off somewhere, leaving you alone to your own devices. Or that's how Jason see's it.

You sit there, were he had left you alone in the candle light, looking off at nothing again. But this time, eyes shift towards Jason, starlight glows in them as lips are slightly parted.

Jason must have looked frightening, cut off from most of the light, hiding off in the shadow just staring at you. But you remain composed, looking away with a little shame, as if you were the one caught staring.

Jason quietly walks up between the pews, down the hall till he stands right before you. He is tall, his large muscled frame is curved and stout under his long black robes.

"Evenin'." Jason greets you. For what feels like the first real time, Jason is graced with locking eyes with you. He had been right, he's got good eyes. You're pretty, he wonders if the better term is fair. Long hair looks soft, fresh looking skin. And a very intricate patterned layered white sun dress. Little hands fiddle in your lap as his large stature, finds a seat in the bench in front of you.

Jason would come across as a little coarse. Sitting like a frat boy, very unfatherly. His back turned, one large strong arm holding the back of the bench as eyes so blue they might be made of ice, pierce back into your own. Light swirls in them, as pupils are slivers. unbeknown to you, his other hand just adjusted his glock.

Would he spill the blood of a pretty little thing right in the center of a church? Not if you don't test him.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Jason asks you, he watches as you falter by just a hair, eyes seem to be no longer able to meet his own anymore, as they just look ahead were his strong arm straddles the wood.

"No, I-," He watches you swallow.

"What troubles you child" Jason tries out the word but it honestly tastes like bad milk, he isn't cut out for the "priests ear" he knew that before this shit started. But he'll be dammed if the bad guys think they can send a Trojan horse in his doors.

"You were here late last night as well." He furthers.

He watches as you pull the inside of your lip between your teeth.

"It's just,-" She mumbles a bit between words, "This is the only place that is not a bar, open so late." A tiny smile finds a graceful face.

Jason hums a bit. His free hand leaving his gun.

"Still I don't understand why a little miss like you is out so late?" He questions, trying not to sound too much like the uncouth man he really is.

He watches your features very, very carefully. He watches you stiffen just a bit. The sudden shift in eye contact give him a quick pause.

"Are you asking me _not_ to come to church, Father?" You question Jason's intents. His mind flashes with the idea of panic shooting you, but his cover isn't blown with just one question.

"Not at all, I am simply confessing my concern."

She smiles sweetly at him, a schoolboy's heart would have skipped a beat. Her fluttering lashes blink once or twice in a charming fashion. It makes Jason feel awkward, the moment between them is off. Is his cover blown?

Jason should have known his cover was bullshit when his heavy cut muscular frame slipped into that robe, or that handsome face turning the faces of blushing step moms. But he stands abruptly before anything else can go on between you two.

"If you plan on leaving soon, please let me know so I can call you a cab." Jason smiles with a salesmen mug on.

"I will, thank you." The pretty girl in white smiles to him.

By the time Jason had finished checking the parameter, she had slipped out. He checks the building up and down making sure your pretty little face wasn't poking around were it shouldn't be. No dice it seems. But with that he resolves that if your ass walks into this church tomorrow, you're a suspect.

* * *

Jason's next day is hard beat, all damn day he is working hard. Jason moves further on another bust. They were waiting for him. Bullets fly and skulls explode from the 22 caliber hand guns in each of his large hands. A hard evening of busting old man ass was worth it. His first real lead. Fuck heads hadn't put away their cookies and The Red hood's hands went knuckle deep in that jar.

Some notes one the item of desire. What he would do with what ever this weapon was, be beyond him. Just to keep it out of the hands of people who should just let him kill them already. Well to Jason that was worth wearing that boner killing outfit.

"Still no busty nuns?"

By time night found Gotham, a light rain took the streets in a midnight May shower. It was a bit humid, but the wind was chilly. Tonight you did not come. He waited for you too, well passed your usual arrival time. He wouldn't have mind you walking in soaking wet in all white. Serving yourself like a prize to him. Because tonight would have been the night he found out your intent. Tonight he'd have you confess your sins.

The next week you didn't grace him either. His busy ass had almost forgotten about you. He rubs his left shoulder healing from a knuckle fight with a goon, who was stuffed into the clerical getup. It left him a bit soar unfortunately. He sighs loudly, his facade faded while alone. It was tempting just to lay down on the benches. While alone he would run small patrols, and a ton of surveillance.

He had really almost forgotten about you, the pretty girl in white. With round doe eyes that reflect all the light in the world. He really did as he returned from above.

But there you where. His lips parted is quiet surprise gazing at you again. As if taking hidden advice. Wearing another very lovely long sun dress. In the colour white you seem to love, this one has long sleeves. But it might be the most lovely you have worn yet. Its long and layered in different lengths. It has a tight tucked waist line and a high collar. Long sleeves with tight cuffs. Its very flattering, and dripping with a form of dignity and prudence.

He hums openly at you, grabbing your attention.

"And here I was worried you might not be coming back." He jests to you, a mildly playful smile on his handsome face. His heart almost skipped a beat when you gave him the gentle and gracious of smiles. If he was closer he may have noticed a bit of blush on your cheeks.

Jason walks up to the pews, with almost no candles lit he assumes his character and starts up with setting each one ablaze. This time you decide to walk up, all the way to perverts row.  
Pretty brave of you.

Jason watches you the entire time. He wonders just how obvious he is being, but maybe he should be that way. He'd like to see that pretty little face give him a good reaction.

Taking your seat, you pull your hands under your bottom so you sit on your dress, the long sides pool around you like a blooming white flower.

Jason can't help but think you look very, delicate. You fiddle with your hands in your lap like you're nervous. And that's when he notices it, a ring on your finger. A quick glance and its clear its an engagement ring. No wedding band?

He hums a bit grabbing your attention. Leaving a candle back in its hold he takes a turn out, hand resting on the wood, the warmth of the small flames tickling his knuckle. And his knife, still in its hold for a quick grab.

"Good evening, Father." Not the term he usually likes out of a girls mouth but he will settle. This is the first time she has greeted him. He smiles like a well trained civil servant. "I'm afraid its a bit late for it to be the evening." He jokes lightly, its well passed 2 am at this point. You look clearly tired, why even come here? Tonight you would confess if he had anything to say about it. Which he very much did.

Her eyes flicker for a moment, but with a hidden exhale through your noes you smile kindly again to Jason. He looks at your hands again, your nail beds look a little rough for a lady. Is she hiding her ring? Or watching him? His own nails get a bit rough knocking the lights out on jackass's all the time.

"Well I'll be glad to have some company on these late nights."

What kinda person lets a little lamb like this out late at night, seeing as they are engaged.

"It's just I,-" Your pretty little voice stops him in the middle of a step he hadn't realized he was taking.  
"Feel at ease when I'm here." You tell Jason looking down at your lap.

"Father?" You speak looking over to Jason in question. He gives an easy going smile down to you.

"Please, Call me… Jay." He couldn't think of a fake name in time, and if there is a god, let it be known he does not like a women around his age referring to him as Father. Daddy is find under the right light but damn not here.

"Father Jay?" You try it out, his face almost went sour. Maybe the reason you look so aloof is because you're missing a few screws?

Jason chuckles a bit lightly at the thought, "How can I help you?" Already deciding to not refer to another as child unless they literally are one.

"How long have you been a priest?" You ask him. Though your tone does not seem to hold any suspicion or malice, Jason takes note regardless. Before even answering he had already decided that you are getting a little background check tonight. Smiling like a method actor, he gives her a passing lie. It's a pretty believable one at that. Saying oh how he'd wanted to be a priest his whole life, that he had travailed studying priesthood around the country. Avoiding the question but giving her an answer the whole time.

"It must be nice to travel." You sigh. A hidden boot lands on the last step, almost into your personal bubble.

"What's stopping you?" Jason asks, watching you hide your ring under your other hand.

"One day." You sigh, nearly dream like. His brows tighten at your composure. but just as he started to enjoy your oddly pleasing company.

"I apologize, I'll let you be for tonight." You give a passive smile to him. His lips press a tight line at being dismissed. God its like you're just begging him to dig into all your business.

He is noticeably taken aback by this, he resolves faster than you could notice. Have it your way.

Jason resumes his candle lighting ritual. He's a lucky bastard the that blowing all them out is the morning persons job.

He glances at you whenever he gets the chance. Still caught on how fair you are. Why the white dresses? Do you just have a lot of them, perhaps its a uniform or something? Why the long sleeves today, and not the other nights? Why do you fiddle with your engagement ring? Why are your nail beds so raw?

Why are you so god damn suspicious? Father Micheal already stated he'd never seen your ass before. You show up the moment he does? Nah, hell nah. You know what would make you less suspicious?

Other than coming in in the middle of the night like a witch at dead hour. Perhaps just not sitting so still, listless, and looking off into the ether. Jason has had just about enough of candle lighting, the next time he has a candle in his hands it's gonna be a kinky thing.

Watching you also becomes boring, as he stands just behind you now. Did you not notice him? because you don't stir from him being so close. But his hand just lands beside you, gripping the wood close to your head. You launch up to two feet in surprise turning your head so quickly your neck hurts.  
Your yelp echo's almost comically loud in the high roof of the church. Your eyes are as big as the moon and your posture so bunched. Holding your hands like a clutch over your chest you put instant distance between you and father Jay.

Held breath, he figured you might spook but he didn't intent to down right scare the skin off of ya'.

He watches you pant for just a second, as if you still need a moment in reality.

"S-sorry." Jason utters. You swallow roughly and those doe eyes dart around as you quickly look rather ashamed.

With a very fake smile and coy laugh you speak a "S-sorry I-I must of dozed off."

Jason is almost at a loss for words, he stands up straight from the slouch he had taken, was he lowering himself to seem a little less frightening? Well he was a bit right about one thing, you really are a lamb aren't you?

He could grumble a bit as you pass by him, clutching your gut as your pace makes your dress flow around you. As you rush passed him your shampoo smells nice, he can't quiet place it but the desire to grab you and turn you round is so large Jason has to physically stop himself.

"Wait." His tone jolts her and she stops dead in her tracts. The where are you going is obvious, but he bites his lip at his threatening tone.

"Let me call you a cab, I'm not about to let you wander off in the middle of the night."

"No need Father, my," You pauses as you give Jason a distressed look, that immediately falls to the floor. "My fiance is almost here, have a good night." And with that you leave rather quickly.

* * *

The Church doors boom as they shut behind you, he never once takes his eyes off of you. Kissing his teeth very loudly he marches off. Stripping off his holy attire and lighting a cigarette, with his skin tight body armor underneath he takes mount to the rooftop. Looking in the dark and following you with a pair of binoculars, Jason watches as you march down the barely lit streets in the dead of night.

"Don't you know its a sin to lie." He huffs after exhaling a drag. Stomping out his smoke into the church rooftop its time to play cat and mouse.

As soon as his boot finishes crunching the discarded bud, the helmet goes on. Following you in the shadows its time to uncover your misdeeds. Jason moves with ease with a mounted rifle on his back aside his twin glocks and a few hunting knives.

He watches you stumble a little bit, you're holding your gut under a streetlight like a drunk person. You falter, holding the side of the gritty old pole as if you might fall over otherwise. Jason pulls out his binoculars very quickly taking a down squat in the shadows. He can't see your, face for your hair as pulled a curtain around it. And then he watches you spit something making him grimace a bit.

What the fuck?

But the loud kick back of a cars exhaust whips you both round, Jason's initial thought was gun fire. But as the tires screech off in the distance the loud noise has sent you booking it like a old war vet.

"Fuck." He grunts taking on after you. You're not very fast, but its still a run. His large frame stalks you in the dead of night, you turn sharply on your heel looking behind you. You're panting ragged as you clench your gut again.

He can hear you panting from where he stands. Shaky steps take you down an alley. Your unknown shadow walks with the moon behind him. He had taken both guns out as he follows each step you make with his own. As you turn out behind a 24 hour quickie mart, you stumble a bit.

Just as he is trying to understand just were the fuck it is you are going, you turn to a set of large metal framed fire ,escape like staircase. Leading up to a second floor behind the store. A wobbling hand grabs black painted rust metal. And each step seems to be a problem for you.

He's mean as he wonders if you are going through some sort of withdrawal, that or you are very out of shape.

It takes you a moment to reach the top, in pockets you pull out keys and walk inside the door.

Jason takes purchase laying on his belly like a sniper with goggles in hand, unbashfully looking into your apartment window.

Lights flicker on and he groans a bit. He can see that your ugly painted greenish walls have plaster marks all over them. With one fist sized whole in the walls still yet to be filled in. And then you walk in, the window shows the entryway open frame and you stand inside it. Just looking down at the ground in that way you seem to love. He just watches you, both of you un-moving.

"What the fuck…" He groans as you are just standing there Blair Witch style. Its hard to make your face out just right, but he could swear it looks like you might be crying. Just as he thinks hes got a good look, you look right out the window, ducking down instinctively he hides.

After a moment he moves over a bit and checks back out. "Fuck." He curses, you pulled cheep motel style blinds in his way. Be it creepy he just watches you like a burglar, he disregards this for the greater good.

Jason continues the stakeout of your apartment for the better part of an hour. The light is still on but you have yet to let him theoretically back inside. Just as he feels like packing it up, his ears pull him to the side as a very old junker like truck pulls round the curb. Driving into the little alley way beside the rusted staircase. It gives a very loud kickback, ringing like a gunfire he grunts as the rusty fuck comes to a halt. The bed of the truck is filled with all sorts of garbage.  
The lights go off and a man eventually stumbles out. Binoculars out he gives him the one two.

"What the actual fuck?"

This is a crime fucker, Jason had his eye on this fuckwad for a little while now. He's been known for doing all kinda fucked shit. Jason reaches for his rifle.

He should just pop this garbage pile off right now.

"Wait a fucking second." He sees the ring on this assholes thick finger as he unlocks the door. The same door you went in.

"Mother fucker?" This is your man? The holes in the wall flash in Jays mind as he loads his rifle. Maybe he could just pop off the two of you? After all you are marrying a known violent criminal.

"I just, feel at ease when I'm here."

He growls very loudly remembering your face speaking soft words.

Fucker.

On his way back to the church he followed your steps. Squatting down he sees the blood that you spat on the roadside.

"Awe, kitten.." He sighs.


	2. Bird Cage Hostle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS  
> Heavy spousal abuse, physical violence. breakdowns, gas lighting. Threatening suicide. blood and vomit. non consent.  
> PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK  
> Also thanks to those who read and left kudos~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from you the readers perspective. It follows the same timeline as Jason does so we go over some pre established details, just from "your" perspective.

If you close your eyes, you can remember back to those days of endless wonder. Everyday would run long, but never end short. The feeling of hot white sand between your toes, a salty breeze. You remember the vast and endless ocean, and you remember him.

You had grown up in a small town far from Gotham, you grew up with your aunt as your mother had conceived you during a one night stand and, was just a bit too young to be a mother. Unfortunate circumstances may have stained your diary as a child with tears. But you refused to lose your smile.

You dreamed of going to the big city, wishful with a pure heart back then. Not to say how you're going to make it big, and not to run away from your home. No, just to see the world.

You thought that the reason you had lived your whole life, that everyday was just for that one moment.

Innocence is to believe you lived everyday to be in love. To hear the shores and the gulls sing. Hot sand didn't stop him from dropping to one knee. You wish you could remember the look on his face, a soft heart filled your eyes with tears. It made it hard to see, and your hands covering your mouth in surprise didn't help either.

Maybe if you had seen his face that day, you would have said no.

If you open your eyes now, all you can see is the same endless gray smear over each day. The sky isn't as blue as it once was, and the clouds haven't made a noticeable shape in 2 years.

It only took 2 years for innocence to be lost. Once you agreed to your high school sweethearts proposal you two had run off to Gotham together, it was tough at first. You didn't know how to hold a job but you had him, and that was all the motivation you needed. There in the happy little home you had together, you painted the white walls over with a green that reminded you of the walls back home. The furniture was cheep, you used all the savings you had. It was humble and small, and just for the two of you. It was your second home, but not your last.

But you had bills to pay, and you two had to eat.

Maybe it was the pressure that made him snap. You were not mad back then, you just tried to motivate him to find work.

"I said I'll get a fucking job, fuck off!" He snaps at you slamming his beer bottle into the floor. Foam and glass fizzed between the cracks of the cheep wooden floors, bleeding into the shaggy small carpet.

You didn't know how to react, sure he's been a little heated with passion over too much traffic, or a losing team. But not at you. Never at you.

You tell yourself its your fault, you had been nagging him too much maybe? You told yourself that over and over. Cleaning up the beer and glass, as he didn't even bother to help you.

You kept making excuses for him, he's homesick maybe? Stressed, depressed, and he has anxiety about getting a job. So you took on 2.

everyday you worked 12 hours or more to keep the lights on.

"You know how it fucking makes me look right? With you runnin' around all the time?" He scolds you. Making you sit down while he stands, chastising you like a toddler. He just keeps yelling. You're so tired, hungry, and damn it all you thought you worked too hard for this.

"Maybe if you got a job I'd-"

And that was the first time he striked you.

It took a moment for it to hurt, as you had been too shocked to realize you were in pain.

He just kept apologizing, holding you and wiping your face down. All you could to is hyperventilate as he consoled you, and begged you to stop crying.

"I'm sorry I just lost my cool. Don't cry its gonna be okay."

You should have known when he said he wouldn't do it again, and again.

It got to the point, you couldn't go into work. Your body hurt, and the marks were all over. But with no income he got even angrier.

Maybe it was when he realized no more beer if there isn't any money. Or that the closest shelter is for women only.

You don't believe in any god, not anymore. But if you did perhaps you'd say thanks. Thank you god for letting me be beaten, thank you for my thin frame and hopeless disposition.

Thank you god, because now he leaves at night, all night he is gone.

The lights stay on, and he leaves you a bit of spending money to keep food on the shelves. He was so tired when he would return that he would just sleep all day.

But it wouldn't last, things would go bad, very bad. Then he would apologize, one time bringing you flowers, or he'd wake you up after an aggressive night together with tea and toast.

As soon as you start to think that maybe things are getting better, when you remember that day by the beach, or driving fast in his car on old country roads. When you remember the love, that true innocent love you had for him.

* * *

"If you ever! Ever leave me, I'll kill myself!" He screamed into your face, holding you by the arms in a vice like grip.

"I'll never leave you baby, I promise." You say, did you mean it? Hard to remember.

Sometimes when he goes to work he takes your shoes with him, its been months since you last worked. You can't afford a phone, and have lost touch with your aunt and old coworkers. But its probably for the best. Why would they want to talk to you? Not even your own fiance did.

He started to come home drunk and high almost every night. Sometimes his knuckles where raw, and he started to pack on muscle. He kept changing and changing. His temper was a roller coaster. Some nights he wouldn't come home at all. But that truck of his, you always knew when he was around the corner. For the exhaust had a loud kick back. Every time you heard it, it filled you with dread.

Each time you plastered up a new hole in the wall, you said that it would be the last time.

It might have been the day he brought a gun home that something clicked in that sweetheart head of yours. You remembered it just sitting on the small dining table you had. You felt like you would instantly vomit upon sight alone. A hand gun, it was silver, metal and oh god, _so real._

You've suffered from panic attacks before, but it was nothing like this.

He's going to kill me? He is going to kill me.

Over and over.

"Hey hun, I'll be out the next few days, keep the house clean will ya'?" His tone was playful, maybe if there was a god you had been Eve. Naked and ignorant, and he was the serpent. You picked that apple didn't you? and as you bit it poison filled your belly.

He left you an allowance that day, a little more than you remember getting usually.

But trained you had become.

"Oh baby, you left me too much here." You gave him back more than you should.

"Don't worry baby, I'm celebrating!" He smiled as he assured you, his teeth stained yellow now. "I landed a big job, get yourself something small while I'm out." He laughs picking up the gun and putting it behind his back in his waist band.

It made you tremble, tears filled your eyes as you lied to yourself about what he was doing at night. Maybe you knew, but you wouldn't admit it.

It would become real then.

He hugged you, and rubbed your back a bit. He was so kind, so gentle. You sighed and told him that you would miss him, he seemed to like that as he kissed you.

You barely spent any of that money he gave you. Hiding it in away inside a hole in the wall. You told yourself in case the power went out again or maybe for food. But you stored it, whatever the reason. You had a bit going on, a few hundred had piled up over 2 years.

But you did by one thing, a pair of shoes, they also hid in the wall. Since sometimes still, he takes yours with him.

At night when you knew he would be working, you went out. Going to the small store below you. Did the people working there ever hear you fighting, did they notice?

You sigh as you buy smokes for him, a gift for when he gets back. He always smoked Belmont's, and maybe it would make him happy.

Fuck it never did, it was never enough.

"I'll fucking kill everyone if you ever go out when I say you can't!" He roars with a bone chilling violent tone.

He could now, he has a gun, guns. You try to calm him down, apologize and apologize. You use your words and your body too. But its never enough.

* * *

"If anyone comes here lookin' for me, you tell em' I was here all night, and yesterday!" He orders you, his eyes are more serious than you had ever seen.

"Baby, wha-" His hands hold the back of your neck and make you look at him. You're already trembling.

"Tell em'. I. Was. Here." He snarls down at you. His breath smells bad.

All you can do is nod over and over, he seems satisfied as he lets you go with a bit of a push.

And then he finally leaves.

After a long cry without tears and a very warm shower. You wonder when love became heavy bricks tied to your legs, and when that same love threw you overboard. You decide to go for a walk, clear your mind, surely he would be gone for the whole night, as it seems hes gone more and more nowadays.

You live in a pretty bad end of Gotham to admit it out loud, but its were the rent Is cheep. And you got a scary man too, maybe people will leave you alone?

Maybe they wont, but it doesn't really frighten you like it should. Maybe because you know what the devil looks like already, the beer he likes to drink and the truck he drives.

You wander down the old listless street. Each dozen feet or so a large black streetlight provides your path with shining yellow circles of light.

Shops have closed up for the night, as a music bar echos in the distance. You had walked for the better part of 20 minutes when your knees start to hurt.

You don't get out like you used to anymore, and walking too long makes you tired. The sound of a metal can being kicked behind you draws your attention. Shadows pull in an alley way that make your skin prickle in the late summer wind.

Maybe you should just head home, its late now isn't it? Deciding to walk the round rout, better than backtracking passed the unsavory alleyways. Then you notice an older man walk out of that giant old church.

Its very Gothic in your round eyes, you don't know too much about the area unfortunately. Other than it's big, historic and a little spooky at night.

You wander up in front of it slowly, its giant like a castle. The faces on the angels guarding it look rather unsettling at midnight. The front doors were huge, tall, and looked very heavy.

Taking a few brave steps you touch the cold metal old door handle. You had never been very religious, _thank god_ had just been an expression.

Your aunt had always been a free spirit and maybe a bit of a hippie growing up. Would you even be allowed in? What if something is going on and you are interrupting? You sigh a bit, but just as you would have talked yourself out of it, the church hums with a lovely tune of soft ringing bells.

It was calling you inside, the door was very heavy as you dragged it open. You had to use a bit of your shoulder to help pull it forward. The first thing was a rush of wind, as the big door pulled air with you as it dragged. It smelled nice inside, like potpourri mixed with a faint campfire.

 _Wow_ , you think. What a beautiful church. The warmth of the lights above mixed with the cool tone bricks and deep coloured benches. The walls filled with the most beautiful stained glass you had ever seen. You exhale for a moment, how pretty it is in here.

There are some people sleeping, maybe they wont mind if you look around?

Trying not to be rude you grab a seat near the center isle, prepared for the only priest here to ask you to leave. But he doesn't, hoping to not seem like trouble you stay quiet and don't stare at him.

The wooden bench is cold on your exposed shoulders. But you don't mind, no there is something surreal about this place, its not that you feel god in here. But you do feel a little at peace.

Homeless people looking for a small break from the outside troubles of Gotham come and go, but you pay little mind to them.

You sigh, it feels good. Like you had been holding air for two inside your lungs and finally let a bit of it out. The atmosphere is so comforting, maybe its the lighting, or just how its the perfect amount of quiet.

* * *

_"Tell them I was here."_ Your fiances words ring in your mind making you close your eyes in a winse, you drag your thumbnail over the beds of your nails.

There has to be a way to help him, you open your eyes again. Maybe there is something you haven't tried yet, there has to be something...

Sighing again you sink back a bit, fisting your dress in your lap nervously. On your walk back tonight you'll think of something, but for just here and now. In the next few moments. Lets just sit, and enjoy the warm toned candle light.

It had been a while since you got up, and this bench was hurting your bottom. Rocking a bit between each leg to relieve a bit of the pressure you notice the same person from before walk back in. And you realize that maybe he can't lock up if people are inside? Worried that you kept the poor man here way too late you gather yourself up to two feet. Only just now did you realize how hungry you had been, as a small chill finds your thinning arms you give them a little hug.

Then you turn to try and thank the nice man for tolerating you.

And that's when you see him, from afar he's a little hard to make out, but his stature is rather large, and he seems young. He's lighting a candle and the yellow of its glow is racing around the strong form of his face. Not wishing to stare too much you give him just a nod and make your way out.

As you left the giant old church, you go to shut the door behind you, and that's when you notice someone standing off in the shadows down the street. The booming of the door behind you jolts your nerves, making quick haste back home as fast as you can.

During the next nightfall, while the love of your life leaves again for another night, he asks you if anyone came by, you sweat a bit.

"I didn't notice anyone." You tell him, its a half lie. For when you had been home, no one came by. He just gives you a grunt. Then sticks his tongue in your mouth, feeling the roof of your mouth with his dry and rough tongue he moans a bit. You wince and breathe through your nose.

"I'll be back later." He taps the side of your face with the back of his hand. Than he leaves for the night again. You're alone for about an hour when you start to feel an itch. Despite the shadows in the night, it would be nice to go back to that church. It felt like a sanctuary, sitting in the warmth and the quiet time passed so smoothly.

The quick huff of peace had you instantly addicted.

Maybe if you hurry, you can just hang out there for an hour or so, not hold the poor man hostage again. Well he might not even be there. And if the doors are lock so be it.

You walk there so quick it takes you no time at all, you reach for that giant door so eagerly as it soothes open, learning from last time how to treat it just right.

But the moment you walk in your graced with that warm aroma again, there are even more candles burning than last time. It feels lovely and warm that you sigh softly. So glad that they are open. Looking head down the center isle up to the podium you notice two men here tonight, for some reason that comforted you.

But you felt your cheeks flush just a moment as you make eye contact with the same young man from last night.

 _Oh no._ You worry a bit, maybe hes told everyone that some drifter was loitering in here. Would they ask you to leave? You hope not, promising yourself you'd only stay for a short while tonight.

You just wanna be alone, alone somewhere that isn't were you live.

Sitting down around where you think you sat yesterday, the bench is still a bit cold even under the fabric of your dress. Fumbling a little bit with yourself till the dress is no longer scrunched under you, smoothing out your lap, clear steps come your way. Little noises as you've started to learn bounce around in the large ceiling in this place. You look over to see a very kind, and gentle looking priest approach you. Hes got the whole get up on, a long black clean robe, that red scarf that they wear over their shoulders. Beaded rosary and a nice white collar.

He looks a little haggard, the old man. Maybe tired from being here so late? His smile is pleasant and his eyes are soft. You wonder how someone ends up in a place like this, priesthood. Who are you to question such a thing?

Innocence lost.

* * *

"Child,-" His words are soft and kind. Instantly your heart feels warm, when was the last time you had just a chat with someone? "What brings you here so late?"

"Oh,-" You had already forgotten that it was the middle of the night when a random girl walks in sitting down all alone, you would be a sight for concern. Feeling a little bad and trying not to cause any form of worry you answer with just. "Out for a walk." You tell him.

He seems to pause, he looks rather worried.

"Though I welcome the company, this old man worries it might be a bit late for someone such as yourself." The kind old priest tells you, he is right, but sir please let it slide, I wish not to be home were I am so, so very alone.

"Don't worry, I'll only be here for a short while. You need not worry." I promise that I wont bother you. He seems to have a look of understanding. Lines pull from age around his jaw as canyons run ragged in his under eyes. He looks like he goes to speak then swallows. As if trying to comfort him I smile softly, he too softens a bit.

He gestures something with his hands as he seems to sigh a bit.

All of us seem to be suffering in our own way.

"If you need anything, please come ask me child."

_I don't think you can help me I'm afraid._

He gives a closed mouth smile, then uttering a small prayer for me. The idea is so kind the sides of your eyes burn with appreciation.

You hope that his god, will also keep him safe.

He leaves your side, the old priest rejoining his partner. Maybe you would like to ask him to stay, it be nice to have someone to chat with. He seems very nice, oh how nice it would be.

You just sit for a little bit, maybe this is what meditation is like? A younger you had far less patients. When did you grow up so much? Now you are just sitting alone, not moving, not thinking. How peaceful it was.

Peace and quiet-

The thought is interrupted when you are greeted suddenly.

"Evenin'" His voice rings with a deep warmth, sprinkled still with a bit of youthful grit. You had not noticed when he had sauntered over, his feet are quiet. That are you had been falling into "la la" land for far too long.

He probably wants you to hurry up and leave. You'd been here for probably a while, you look up to him ready to apologize.

But lord, he's a handsome man for sure. His jaw is stern and sharp, with eyes as blue as any sky. His black hair is tussled with a clean cut. He looks strong under his priests robes, they seem to fit him maybe a bit tight on the shoulders. He's the kind of pretty boy that was prom king and, without a doubt motivation for some mothers to come down to mass.

Tripping over your own shameful thoughts, words escape you as he sits just ahead of you on the next row. He isn't sitting very dignified, rather lax in posture. His side is turned to you, and you see the cords in his strong looking neck pull a bit as he turns his head to the side to meet your eyes. His clothes are surly too tight as the pull in sharp curves over round shoulders. His arms seem a bit big, maybe he's one of those "new age" priests. He seems a bit young, maybe its that playful look in his eyes.

He is trouble, you tell yourself that just based on the way his eyes look at you.

Its hard to speak as your chest feels a bit tight, if feels like you're going to be scolded, worry takes you a bit. Nostrils flair. **What if _he_ saw you talking to such a handso -.**

Talking to another man. It worries you.

"Are you waiting for someone?" The young man asks you. Caution tells you its never safe to tell any man, no matter how good looking they seem that you are a lady alone. Even in a church...

"No I-," You go to lie on your feet, but words seem to close in your throat like a bad allergic reaction. Hands are sweaty as you slowly try and dry them on the white fabric of your dress.

"What troubles you child" His voice is soothing like a river, but feels a little rehearsed. It gives little to settle your now fluttering heart. What should you say? You were foolishly too eager to come back you forgot to prepare a speech to tell someone. Maybe you just assumed no one would ever want to speak to you. Let alone a looker like this man, well maybe it was his job to talk to you.

He probably just wanted you to hurry up and leave.

Shame tastes bad as you bite the inside of your mouth. But you don't wanna go just yet. Please, how you would like to stay just a little longer.

"It's just,-" You mumble "This is the only place that is not a bar, open so late." It's a lie, not a lie. It's just really not the real truth. Smiling through it hoping he might let it pass.

He seems to hum a bit, she sees his Adams apple bob on his strong looking neck, its hard to remember where to look when talking to another living human being.

"Still I don't understand why a little miss like you is out so late?"  
Its clear he didn't want you here, sadness fills your pretty little heart.

You ask him if he wants you to leave, it sounded bitter, and not really what you meant. He seems to be thrown off by this and instantly you feel bad.

That's not how you meant it. Its really not.

_Good god._

"Not at all, I am simply confessing my concern." His voice is already addicting. He sounds strong, and capable. It's this kind of thought that got you into all your problems. How you judge others is too kind, already you scold yourself.

You feel shameful, not even noticing your head dip and fall. But before you could console yourself into an apology for your rude behavior, he stands up.

He is rather tall, a large frame, big hands fold themselves over his belt line. His smile is smooth as he nods down to you.

"If you plan on leaving soon, please let me know so I can call you a cab." He smiles, it seems a little forced, but maybe that's because you had been a bit rude to him.

A cab home might be nice, but there is no way you could afford that. What if he saw you come home in a cab, would he be upset? You can already imagine the fight as you say. "I will, thank you."

Good thing god is dead. For you have lied twice in his house tonight, and the night is still not even over. That night, you had wandered home. It was rather peaceful, the moon was almost full and the sky had no clouds in its way. The local bar was playing a classic hit you wished to hum too.

The thing you dislike the most about the big city, is that all the lights block out the stars. Still it's a nice night. Feeling very almost giddy, a tear is in your eye as you smile down at the dark gray sidewalk.

How nice it was to talk to literally anyone, and how lonely you had become.

All was well for once.

* * *

**Till it wasn't. It's not, it never was. Not even for a moment you damned fool.**

The moment you turn into your corner behind the old store, your eyes blow wide in horror.

He is sitting on the stairs. Just sitting there. He looks like a monster moments before it transforms, still wearing man flesh, ready to tear you apart.

Fight or flight had crashed down and you stopped dead in your tracks like a doe in headlights. His hair has grown out long and was all over his face, his hands are dirty and his shirt has a bit of brown splatter on it. His just sitting, lets up to rest his forearm on.

"Were where you?" He grunts out, the whole staircase rattles as his large body gets up. You're to scared to run, to scared to speak as you tremble like the dried up little leaf you had become.

That night he dragged you by the hair up the stairs. He used to never leave marks on your arms and face. But this time he let you know were you belong. Who you belong to.

He punched you in the gut very hard, that it made you puke.

For 2 days you could barely walk after that. He told you that if he found you with any man he would kill them. For the rest of the week you did not dare go out. Your gut hurt so very much, it hurt to go to the bathroom, and it hurt to stand for too long.

He was going to kill you wasn't he?

Hadn't he already?

A whole week had passed, your gut is still rather sore but you can stand again. Making breakfast you crack a beer for your keeper. He thanks you warmly.

"You know I love you right?" He smiles at you in appreciation.

If your eyes had been anymore hollow they'd just be creators that look back at him. The pause is too long, he pouts a bit.

"Baby, you're not still upset are you?" He wines a bit, you take a seat across from him.

"No sweetie I'm fine now." You lie. "Just been missing you, that's all." You fake a smile.

It must have been the right answer. He reached across the table and took your hand in his.

"Baby, what if we finally tie the knot?" He smiles. Tears fill your eyes in horror. God why.

But he sees it the other way around, tears of a facade, they are not joy you monster. Can't you tell? Can't you see that I am suffering?

He gets up and moves round the small beer-ringed stained table to hug you. His arms are big, and they give you no warmth.

"Think about it for me." He kisses a stray tear.

"Sorry, I know things have been hard for us. But I've taken a big contract, soon you and I are gonna get out of this shit whole." He assures you.

Smiling, very small you stroke his cheek, and he kisses your lips. Then your neck. Each kiss is poison as he slips your shirt from your shoulder.

Lips of belladonna burn you as he fevers over the black and blue skin that used to be yours. He picks you up and sits you on the table.

And there he devours you whole.

You watch him fix his belt as he motions to the door.

"If I'm not back tonight I will be Monday night, okay love?" He lets you know.

"And remember what I said?" he threatens. All you can do is nod.

"Be safe baby." You smile at him, while his cum runs down your thigh.

There was a hickey on his shoulder, and lord knows you did not put it there. Monster, you monster.

Monster. Monster. Monster.

* * *

God dammit, night had found your oversized birdcage of an apartment, t.v. static buzzed as the only light source. You sat on the old sofa legs curled up.

Your gut hurt still and you tried to rub it well.

Maybe you should have gone to the hospital. But there is no way you could. Would you ever even see another doctor again?

It's hard to describe that feeling of hopelessness. You wonder what your auntie is up too, are your old coworkers at that bar that plays all the fun music? You miss the taste of a good greasy burger from that old diner.

You miss most of all, the man you used to love. That sweet easy love, that warm sand under your toes. When love was blind, and better than any wine.

Bare toes flinch as they feel a shard of old glass still embedded in the carpet.

You didn't even think as you got ready, putting on the only dress you own with long sleeves to hide your bruises. You don't own a ton of makeup nowadays. But you use a bit to hide some marks on your neck.

And then, you're already on your way to your sanctuary, the high ground. The holy rock in the deadlock of this godforsaken city.

Maybe that nice old man is there tonight again. You had no idea what kinda church this was, maybe you could confess in that booth you had seen on t.v.

Confess all the sorrow you have been carrying, how it seems you can't bring him back, the man you used to love.

If he found out, that you left you might actually die this time. Maybe you could leave just something with someone.

The walk takes a little longer, legs hurt at the knees, and your hips are stiff from your fiances earlier endeavors on them.

But it stands out like a lighthouse to a shipwrecked sailor.

You thought it was spooky late at night before, but now its a safe house. Maybe your life isn't an apocalypse, and people have it far worse than you. But, but-

The door is cold on your fingers. You had been chewing and rubbing them a bit too much, how nice it would be to grow them long and pretty again.

The moment you open the door, you felt as if you might cry.

When did this place become special. Instantly it is soothing, warm. Maybe that's why people come here every week. Is it this feeling? Its like a pleasant dream as you walk in. Not wishing to spook anyone you help that old door close again.

"I'm back." You whisper to the closed door as your eyes try and mist a bit.

A soft hum of the lips turn you round slowly.

Relief takes you like soft rain, look who it is. It's the young man, maybe he works the graveyard shifts? Pity he would give up his nights when he is so young.

"And here I was worried you might not be coming back." His words are smooth, and they pull you like a rope. You were worried, I thought I might die, I'm glad that you had me on the mind. Smiling you try and hide the tears just knocking at the door.

Would the handsome man in black mind if you bother him again tonight? You hope he doesn't notice that you're feeling down. It's selfish, how selfish you had become. Just talking to him might put his life at risk, what if _he_ found out?

Please don't mind, you think as you pull your dress under your legs as you sit. Trying to seem more ladylike than you are.

What to say? You think back trying to remember every conversation you had, how you had them. What was it you used to say? How did you used to talk so easily to others? Maybe he hasn't been saying anything because he thinks you're crazy? Oh no, you worry and you worry.

* * *

"Good evening, Father." You settle on words. Your heart eases a bit of worry when he smiles at you. He would be a heartthrob. It's a shame that he is a man of the cloth, unsure if that means he is "devoted" to god but you think it is.

"I'm afraid its a bit late for it to be the evening." He smiles and his blue eyes pull you in when he laughs smoothly.

He seems friendly enough, maybe he wouldn't mind after all? Feeling your jaw unclench as you relax by a pinch.

"Well I'll be glad to have some company on these late nights." The handsome priest tells you, his voice carries so well. You're positive now, that this kind of warm feeling is why people gather every week. Relief takes you like a wave, you're so happy that he doesn't mind talking to you, that you almost giggle.

Happy to be here, happy that he isn't upset that you came back. With a tiny smile you speak.

"It's just I,-" not trying to mumble, worried you might sound too eager."Feel at ease when I'm here."

Looking down at your own shabby two hands worried he might laugh at you. But he is quiet, worried a bit you question him.

"Father?" you ask to him, he looks a little stiff and his brows set a bit.

"Please, Call me… Jay." You feel corrected by him, should you introduce yourself? Who cares who you are.

"Father Jay?" You try and say what he wants to hear. He seems odd but he laughs softly. His voice is buttery, and his laugh makes your chest feel calm.

"How can I help you?" His blue eyes light up, glowing with the softest of candle light, would he mind if you talk to him? Get to know him?

Maybe just for a moment or two, please don't mind.

It was smooth, and easy going. He was thankfully so easy to talk to, he seemed very cool. Like the kinda guy to have 100k social media followers but never brag about it. He talked about how he became a priest, how he had traveled and learned around the country.

Oh how you envied, maybe if you had still be _pure_ , weather or not you believe in a higher power. Maybe you could run away, live in a nunnery and make church butter all day. Exhaling through you noes you drift away at the thought.

"It must be nice to travel." You sigh dreamy like. Thinking about all the wonderful places he could have gone, things he ate, and people hes met.

"What's stopping you?" Father Jay asks you.

Cinder blocks tied at the ankles. Love is stopping you, its got its hold on you and had condemned you.

The ring on your finger burns with a cursed promise of pain and pain. _Good god._

"One day." You're back to lying again.

You're never going to live this kind mans life, that apple he tricked you into taking has rotted your insides.

It's silent for a moment between you two. You start to feel like you have overstayed your welcome, surely he is tired of some random person taking up his time.

"I apologize," And you really do. "I'll let you be for tonight." You try and smile the best you can. Your chest is so tight, and tears are trying to spill.

A heart falls into your stomach, he has this look on his face. Is he…. Upset? Maybe that was rude of you, maybe he had like talking to someone. And now you have ruined it. But he smiles at you for a moment, taking a quiet leave he wanders off alone.

You feel like you're starting to have a panic attack. Your heart is thudding in your ears. A line of pain drags up your gut like a red worm. It nearly makes you grunt. Trying to breathe silently you stifle yourself the best you can.

You wanna run out, but at the moment you don't think you can stand.

He really might kill you next time. What if he is on his way here? Does he know? Would he hurt Father Jay? Your nail is already digging into the nail bed as worry races past the panic finish line.

**God what if he is here now?**

Eyes blow wide as a large hand finds itself right beside your head. Instantly you launch to your feet in reaction. You only know you cried out in panic because your outburst echo's in the halls.

Poor Father Jay looks equally as surprised as he slouches a bit, one hand out like you're a startled barn animal. Your heart thuds as you try and clench it. Your back is sticking to your dress with sweat and there's a sharp pain in your gut that makes you feel like you might vomit.

"S-sorry." He utters to you, he looks very worried all of a sudden.

 _"And here I was worried you might not be coming back."_ His kind words that he spoke to you echo in your mind like those lovely bells had the first time you walked into this place. I didn't meant to scare you.

"S-sorry I-I must of dozed off." You couldn't even fake a chuckle.

The look on his face makes your heart sag down. His lips go tight and his brows scrunch together. What if he knows? Did he see a bruise? Oh no..

Before another thought you race past him.

"Wait." His words are a command you can't refuse. His tone was so strong it stopped you dead in your tracks. Damn, he had seen one.

"Let me call you a cab, I'm not about to let you wander off in the middle of the night." He tells you, his tone is so firm, it takes all you've got left to refuse him.

_No need you tell him._

Please don't look at me like that, please don't give me worry filled eyes. A good looking guy like you is better off smiling every day.

It's not like he'd be attracted to you, maybe if something happened the church could be held liable? That's probably it.

"My fiance is almost here, have a good night." Lies. But, let this man be a witness to your departure. Maybe you might not be able to come back.

Leaving was very hard, its warm in here.

Holding your now throbbing abdomen, you shuffle down abandon streets. The moon is full but your head is low. Would he be waiting for you?

Pain throbs all through you stomach up to the base of your ribs, and you see white for a moment, insensitively you reach for whatever is close, the metal on the crass paint job of the large street lamp is hard under your sweaty hand.

You heave for a second, as acid burns your throat. Eyes bulge for a moment and its hard to breathe.

Leaning down you heaved over you spit up a stringy cobweb.

It's blood red. You can't swallow, whether it be shock or pain.

**Boom!**

The sound rings through the street network like a thunderclap.

Its the kick back of a truck.

Running, sprinting, fight of flight takes you a mile a minute. That's his truck, you know that cursed sound anywhere. Feet take you home, till adrenaline crashes and you break for a gasp. Panting ragged, your throat feels raw and your lungs strain for air.

With a sweaty forehead and shaking hands you pull yourself up the staircase like its a mountain. Even your keys feel heavy in your hand.

That night he did come home, maybe he was testing you. To see if you had gone out. But he was far to drunk too remember, passing out on the recliner in front of the television. He snored loudly with his mouth agape.

It be nice to see the handsome priest again. If you make it to tomorrow, you wanna ask him more questions. Maybe about his favorite meal he had in his travels. It be nice.

The next day, by time you wake your fiance is gone. It's till rather early. Sunlight has taken Gotham as you pull your drapes open. Sunlight warms and soothes your skin in rays of light. Exhaling softly, watching your reflection fog from your own breath.

"I've gotta get out of here." You whisper to yourself.

Not too much later you find yourself sitting bare foot on the staircase outside. The warm summer air is soothing, and you can hear the bustle of city traffic just around the corner. Reading through yesterdays newsprint. Drinking ice water out of an old mug, looking through all the fucked up things in the world.

A headline reads.

**= The Red Hood Sacks Another Church In String of Drug Busts. =**

Your eyes blow wide as you read. Worried that your church had been damaged somehow. Eyes spilling down at the printed imagery, it's a bunch of officers leading out men just covered in injuries from a church. You don't recognize it and that you feel thankful, you then take your attention to the text.

The article reads.

"Over the span of a few weeks Gotham police have been investigating into a bust of church after church. Local authorities state that the Red Hood is involved, he is an extremely dangerous felon. The Red Hood has been placed at a number of churches by eye witnesses. Citizens are cautioned never to approach or attempt to contact the offender for he is armed and unpredictable. Church goers should practice precautions upon entering churches and consult local ministers and police for further inquiries. According to Gotham police this is an extremely active and ongoing case. . If any information-"

You close the paper and let out a breath.

You worry about the two priests, sadly you never got the name of the older gentleman that was there that night. Who had been so kind to you. And the ever so handsome Father Jay. Would he be alright too? Maybe that's why you wanted to put you in a cab so much.

Would the Red Hood come after that church too? You hope not, so much you that could almost pray for it.

Legs wobble a bit as you stand, retreating back into your apartment.

The day came and went. You didn't leave to your home away from home that night. Almost being caught twice was far too much of a fright for you. You're man returned late that night. Walking on eggshells is the wrong term for how he makes you feel. Its like walking on a mine field. Each bomb hidden under shards of glass. His temper is too hard to predict and nothing you say is ever right.

"I learned my lesson! Please, please don't be mad." You beg him with a sob as he holds you up by the hair. The feeling of his gun pressing into your belly makes you exhale with a wet rasp.

"I know." He kisses your wet cheek. "I was waiting for you around the corner all last night." His fist is tight on your long hair.

"I'm just letting you know." He kisses your neck as the gun pushes into your belly.

"I just got one question for you love." Hardly able to even open you eyes.

"Anybody, come looking for me? He growls on your neck, as his tongue drags up to your ear.

"N-no baby." you whimper.

"Are you sure?!" He barks in your ear.

"Nobody!" You swear aloud to him.

"If somebody does," He rants so much that veins bulge on his forehead, eyes red like the devil.

"I'll fuckin' kill em!" He screams out loud.

Were did the man you fell in love with go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not trying to glorify abuse in anyway I want to make that very clear. This story is going to be that classic girl in bad relationship gets save. It is just a fantasy. Even the "readers" reactions are not really realistic when it comes to victims of abuse. Again this is just fantasy.
> 
> Also gunna plug the spotify playlist I made while writing this fic, its not to big if you wanna give it a listen.  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4foS4HGD8kqYiEWUiV4loC?si=gnYAkV2QT2m1fvTM81dtsg  
> Thanks for reading ~

**Author's Note:**

> SO that's the first chapter, I'm pretty nervous. sorry if there is any big grammar mistakes. ;;;  
> next chapter will be a bit stressful and more from the readers perspective.  
> Also I made a small spotify playlist inspired by this fic, https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4foS4HGD8kqYiEWUiV4loC?si=rbQnZf-rQH6s9t7SBgo8Lw


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